The Little Secret of Miss Rarity
by nepetax101
Summary: Rarity explores an inner desire, and wants to share with her sister. But her sister, has no interest in the sexual game of Masochism. Rarity comes to shove her sister into this game, making sure that her sister shares the same feelings she has. What happens when Rarity's dirty little secret becomes more public than she wanted. Rated M for violence, swearing, and sexual content.


**Author's Note: The premise of Lil' Miss Rarity is NOT mine. I take no credit for it. I liked the idea of it, so I decided to take a new spin on it. This fic is graphic, due to the masochistic atmosphere. Again, Lil' Miss Rarity is NOT mine. I hope you all enjoy my fiction!**

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Rarity twirled the knife in her fingers, staring at her little sister. The girl still hadn't woken up yet, no surprise there. She was such a heavy sleeper. How else would Rarity been able to tie her to the very chair she was in now? In all honesty, Sweetie Belle looked quite beautiful tied down like that. A ball gag gently bounding her mouth, slight drool dripping from it. The ties tight enough to keep her down, but loose enough as to not dig into the fragile skin of her sister. And the white blindfold accented it all. It kept her sister in the dark, literally, about the situation.

Rarity sighed at the time she had to wait, then she took her gaze to the knife. She bit her lip, closing her eyes to assess her time. Slowly though, she opted to go to her room. She slowly closed the door, holding the knife tightly. She could hardly contain her excitement as she took the knife to her skin. Retracing the heart shape on her chest she had previously cut a few days before. She shivered in pleasure, biting her lip as her eyes fell close. She dug the knife in deeper this time, and a soft gasp escaped her lips as she cringed in both pleasure and pain. "Oh..." She caught herself though, knowing that today was not meant for her pleasure, but for Sweetie's. She had to share this beautiful thing to her sister, to take pain as a pleasure. She bit her lip though, as she felt the wetness between her legs. She hesitantly put the knife down, sighing, realizing that she was not going to be able to finish herself any time soon as she heard the soft struggles of Sweetie below her.

She got up, taking the knife between her fingers again, and walked downstairs. "Sweetie, Darling, cease the struggling at once." she said a bit harsher than it was meant, but it served its purpose. Sweetie had stopped fidgeting in her seat, but her fruitless cries still curled around Rarity's ears. "Good girl..." Rarity held the knife close to her sister's unmarked skin, grinning in anticipation. "This may hurt at first...but you need to relish it Darling."

Sweetie had no way to prepare herself for what had happened. Rarity had gently sunk the knife into Sweetie's skin, and she had yelped to the best of her ability. She had begun struggling again, which made Rarity pull the knife back in surprise. She felt her sister's hand hold her still, while the knife dug into her again. This time, the knife had gently trailed down, made a sharp corner, than trailed back to make two half circles. Sweetie soon felt the wetness of the blood stain her fur, and soon the wetness of tears trailed down her face. The pain was excruciating at first, but was now turning into a dull throb.

Rarity stared at her sister's carved cut. She grinned as if she had just finished the most beautiful dress of all Equestria, of all the worlds. "How does that feel Sweetie?..."

Sweetie responded by thrashing about in her seat, the tears coming more. "Oh...oh no...You weren't supposed to cry...oh no..." Rarity untied her sister, which had resulted in her lashing out to run. Rarity's magic kept her still though, and the magic also undid the ball gag. "No! Don't touch me!" She yelped and cried.

Rarity's eyes widened and she saw it. The actual agony in her sister's face from the knife she held. It wasn't pleasure for her, no, it was pain. It wasn't something that Sweetie could get off on, like she did, or feel victory on, like she did. This was something that had actually hurt her, and to make it even worse, she had been hurt by her own sister. "Oh goodness Sweetie. I'm so sorry..." Sweetie looked at her sister, tears trailing down her face. "That hurt! That hurt! You aren't supposed to hurt me! You've changed! You've changed! I want Rarity back! I don't want you! I want Rarity!" Sweetie cried, struggling against the magical bonds.

That had hit Rarity hard. Her sister hadn't truly known what all the marks were on her skin, and that was just the evidence of Sweetie's innocence. She hadn't known how much Rarity actually had changed, and Rarity surely didn't want her change to be associated with a sadistic manner, rather than a masochistic. Which if Rarity had taken the time to think about, each of those weren't better than the latter. "I am Rarity, Darling.."

"No! No you aren't! Rarity would never hurt me! Rarity would never! You're a liar, whoever you are!"

Rarity huffed, sadness and anger mixing together. If her sister wasn't so young, a few choice words might of flown right out of her mouth.

Her sister didn't truly know where all the marks on her skin came from, nor did she ask. She hadn't known that her sister wouldn't share the same passion for pain in pleasure, and pleasure in pain. But her sister should of known better than to call her a liar. She maybe anything, but a liar was certainly not one of them. And, she certainly didn't want her change to be associated with a sadistic manner, rather than a masochistic. And, if Rarity had taken the time to think of each one, she would of realized that each one of those was no better than the latter.

"I, am Rarity. Whether you believe that fact or not, is up to you, you little brat. I, am Rarity." The once posh pony's demeanor turned from sweet, to a bitter, bitter sour.

Sweetie trembled at that, and trembled more as her sister left her there. Hanging in air, bound (but thankfully not gagged or blindfoled). She closed her eyes when she heard Rarity's lust filled moans and gasps, squeaks and squeals, whimpers and whines above her.

Sweetie had been too young to know of Masochism. She should of been too young to perform it. But to her sister, Sweetie was just right to being a sexual game where pain can overcome pleasure, and pleasure can overcome pain.


End file.
